


Fracture

by redlight



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, I'm Sorry, M/M, Omniscience, POV Second Person, Psychic Abilities, god i hate this, kinda OOC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 08:18:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2060799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redlight/pseuds/redlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a <em>tick-tick-tick</em> coming from the clock on the nightstand, and you're not sure how to feel about that anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fracture

There is a _tick-tick-tick_ coming from the clock on the nightstand, and you're not sure how to feel about that anymore.

You're waiting, waiting for _him_ to come home. You are waiting, because his last phone call says he was close by but he seems so **far** and you can't handle this distance, he needs to be back, _right now-right now-right now-_

( _you've dreamt about it. you've dreamt of waves crashing against sinking ships and lightning setting fire to cities, of people sick from particles stuck in the air and of cold, cold winters and humans with starving stomachs and hollow eyes and **deathdeathdeath** , everything you **ever** touch **dies** -! _

_-and you're not sure how to feel about that._ )

The villagers call you insane. They call you monster.

But there was always that one boy, who eventually grew into a man, one who was kind and sweet and didn't always believe you when you told him about your visions, but he still had nervously walked up to you when you were on the ground and trying not to cry when the orphanage hadn't believed you about the fire (- _children, so many children, dead_ -) and he held out his hand and smiled, " _Hi, I'm Matthew Williams_."

They call you psychotic. They call you demon.

 _He_ , **Matthew** , he calls you by your name. He calls you Ivan. He says it with a smile on his lips and a shine in his eyes, lit and violet and beautiful. You've thought your name plain and common, but he makes it sound simple and elegant on his lips and you love him for that, if only a bit.

( _you know that he has just made his last phone call_.)

You are waiting, you are waiting for the clock to strike _nine-thirty-four nine-thirty-four_ , it's ten minutes away and you wonder if you should call, because the cellphone he gave you is clutched in your white-knuckled hands. You wonder if you can stop it.

( _it's your last chance because the truck is driving far too fast and the blizzard is blowing hard._

_it's your last chance to save a life. **his life.** _

_but it won't be saved, because you can't save anyone, and you're shaking now, trembling, you are going to fall apart and nothing can hold you together anymore because matthew will die and you can't and won't stop it_.)

You've seen this. You've seen it all a million times. You _know_ this, you know _everything_ , and knowledge is alluring and powerful but poisonous in too many doses and you are toxic yourself.

( _a hissing screech and **crashcrashcrash** , sirens loud and blaring and a woman will call at ten post-meridies attempting to sound sombre, saying, "we are so, so sorry for your-" _

_and you will throw the phone at the wall before she can finish_.)

And the same cellphone is clutched in your hands and your lips are quivering and there are tears in your eyes and you dial his number.

He picks up. "Oh, hey, Ivan. Is there something wrong? I'll be back soon-"

And you choke and say, "I love you, _I love you_ , so, so much."

And you hang up so you don't hear the sound of metal ripping apart and screaming.

( _and you, ivan braginsky, you shatter into a million unrecognizable pieces_.)


End file.
